


All Lies and Jests

by feverbeats



Category: RocknRolla (2008)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 10:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8887174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverbeats/pseuds/feverbeats
Summary: "He can't be serious about him," One-Two says. "Not a bloke like that."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lousy_science](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lousy_science/gifts).



> Title from "The Boxer" by Paul Simon.

"You can't do this! Mumbles, can he do this?"

"Do I look like the police?" Mumbles says calmly, no help as usual.

See, in the past few weeks, Bob's started bringing that fag Bertie around. Not that One-Two means fag like _that_ , only with Bertie it's probably fair. He's heard Bob say it. The rules are too complicated for him. Point is, Bob's been bringing Bertie around in a collar and leash, to the fucking Speeler, and--

Well, there ought to be a law against it.

Bob's chatting with Fred like nothing's wrong, while Bertie hangs off him looking ill-at-ease with the atmosphere.

"Practically telling him to sit and stay, isn't he," Mumbles says, watching.

"He can't be serious about him," One-Two says. "Not a bloke like that." Then again, Bertie is exactly what comes to mind when One-Two thinks of gays. Silly, stuff, swish men who don't mind walking about in leather and leashes.

Bob crosses the room and joins them, Bertie trailing along behind. Neither of them has the good grace to look ashamed.

"Bob," Mumbles says, "Bertie."

"Mumbles," Bob says. He doesn't acknowledge One-Two.

"Evening, all!" Bertie chirps, like he's not danging off Bob's arm. "I say, this is really something else again, this little club of yours."

"Ain't a club," Mumbles says, loyal and patient. One-Two adores him.

"Although if it were, it wouldn't be a very exclusive one," One-Two adds. He ignores the look Bob gives him.

So that's how it keeps on going.

Other than that, thing are all right. Stella's just come back from a long business trip she refuses to bore him with the details of. She's got a few interesting new scars, which she wears just as well as everything else.

"Don't worry about it," she tells him when he asks. Totally unconcerned.

One night, they're lying in bed together, Stella smoking, One-Two wondering how he got so lucky again.

"Been thinking," he says.

"Mm."

"Would you want to—I mean, this is getting a bit silly, always meeting up at my place. Why don't you come out with me for a change?"

"I'm married," Stella says coolly.

"Yeah, and your fucking _husband_ is round the Speeler every other night," One-Two says, stung.

"Oh, Bertie's got no restraint," Stella says dismissively.

"Yeah?" One-Two props himself up on one elbow and looks at her. She looks like a statue. He'd never guess the filthy things she'd been doing if she hadn't been doing them to him. "What's he like in bed?"

She gives him a look. "How should I know?"

"Come on."

She sighs and stubs out her cigarette. "Oh, all right. He'll do just about anything you tell him to, but he's got no finesse. I'd imagine your Bob is wasted on him."

 _Your Bob._ He reminds himself she could mean a lot of things by that, and he lets it go. "Yeah? You don't think it'll last?"

Stella gives him another look, this one even longer and more measured. "No," she says. "I don't expect it could possibly last."

The next day, Bob is nowhere to be found, and Mumbles stands up as soon as One-Two shows up at the Speeler.

"Bad timing," he says. "I'm going out."

"Is that so? Who with?"

Mumbles won't say. He's always been quiet, but not secretive. So both One-Two's best mates are traitors now.

And it only gets worse from there.

When Mumbles lets himself out, Archy, unfortunately, lets himself in. Since the business with Lenny Cole, Archy seems to have decided he's welcome around here again. And he's not exactly wrong. Bob, especially, seems to have welcomed him back with open arms.

Archy raises his glass to One-Two. Normally One-Two might take this as an indication that he should flip Archy off, especially with Lenny out of the picture, but they all heard _how_ Lenny left the picture, so One-Two's feeling a bit cautious. Besides, Johnny's practically a mate, and Archy takes order from him now. Or close enough.

Everyone thinks they know things about Archy and Johnny, and at least some of it must be true. One-Two can tell you they certainly don't have a safeword.

He comes over and sits by Archy. "Arch."

"One-Two. Seen Bob today?"

One-Two frowns. What is going _on_ today? As usual, he feels like he's missing a piece of the puzzle.

"Not yet," he says.

"Well, _if_ you do, just tell him I'm looking for him."

It's an hour before Bob comes in with Bertie in tow. One-Two's already bored playing cards with Fred and Cookie. It's not the same.

Bob slides into the empty seat at their table and Bertie sits on his lap.

"Afternoon, all," Bertie says, as if he's got any right.

Fred nods his head, polite enough to everyone, at least to begin with. Cookie leers at Bertie. Bertie and his pals are still giving Cookie business, so who's he to complain?

One-Two doesn't say a fucking thing. He can feel Bob giving him one of those long, wounded looks as Fred deals him in.

They're only two hands deep (Bertie taking both of them—he's surprisingly good at cards) before Bob says, "Oh, those reservations."

"is that that time already?" Bertie asks. "Time flies." He makes a pert little moue at One-Two.

Bob grabs his wrist hard and says impatiently, "Best be going, then, yeah? Meet me in the car."

Bertie gives Bob and kiss and breezes out the door.

"He's got to go!" One-Two explodes before the door's quite shut. "It's—it's not natural! He's just got to go!"

Bob gives him a furious, hateful look. He doesn't think he's ever seen that look on Bob before.

"I'll just take his winnings for him," he says shortly.

"Bob," Archy says from across the room. "Pop round my place after your date, would you?"

Bob gives him a startled look, but he nods.

After he's gone, Fred says. "What's this about, then, One-Two? I mean, really."

Archy shakes his head at One-Two.

*

It gets a bit old, the way Bertie treats Bob like he's stupid. They fuck in his car, they fuck in his flat, Bertie explains bits of his job that he thinks are fascinating. Bob won't tell him that they are. He sometimes tries to slip Bob some money, when he notices something that's particularly lacking in Bob's life (nice drinking glasses, for example). Bob isn't a fucking prostitute. He dropped out of law school for this?

Then again, what he did drop out for isn't working out so well lately. He's barely seen Mumbles and One-Two, and that's not on him. Both of them have got a girl (and he's got a few ideas about what's going on there), and that leaves Bob with Bertie.

And now One-Two's all wound up about _that_. 

****

After his dinner with Bertie, Bob rings Mumbles and explains about Archy asking him over.

"I hear Archy hasn't killed anyone in _months_ ," Mumbles says thoughtfully. Bob can hear traffic in the background. He wonders where Mumbles is.

"I might as well see what he wants," Bob says. Archy's asked him over to his actual flat. That's something not a lot of them have ever got asked. Certainly not Mumbles or One-Two.

"Where's One-Two been all day, anyhow?" Mumbles asks.

"Dunno, where have you been all evening?" Bob shoots back.

"So, about that dance," Mumbles says.

"It was just a dance," Bob snaps.

Archy's flat is exactly what Bob would have pictured, had he thought about it (he had). There's barely anything in it, but everything that's there is clean, tasteful, and probably expensive. Everything's dark blue and black, like Archy's victims when he's done with them, ha ha. Except Archy hasn't killed anyone in months.

"Well, Bob," Archy says. He doesn't sit down. "Can I get you a drink?"

Bob, perched on the edge of the nice couch, says thanks, but no. Whatever this is, he's going in sober.

"Bob. I'll get to the point. You're a clever lad. Maybe a bit too clever for what you've been spending time on."

Archy's hit him at home. It's a skill of Archy's. Exactly the area in which Bob is feeling unappreciated.

Archy looks at him appraisingly. "It's not that I'm saying you could do better."

For a moment Bob thinks he's going to leave it at that. It would be enough.

But Archy goes on. "But that fag you've taken up with, is that really who you want to be seen with?"

For all that even _Bertie_ has heard what a queen Archy is, for all that he's a fucking _legend_ in the fag side of Bob's life, Bob knows what he meas. There are fags and then there are fags. No need to be a pussy about it. (He's been told, mainly by Mumbles, that he oughtn't think like that. Too late.)

"Bertie's all right," he says carefully.

"And your mates? I heard that idiot One-Two's finally aware of what we've all known for years."

Archy's still dangerous, Bob reminds himself. "Yeah, Archy." Is he going to get hit?

"Thought you might like a bit of honest work is all," Archy says. "Been cleaning house. We could use some muscle, and muscle with brains is hard to come by."

Bob realizes what Archy's saying to him. He realizes he's not saying no yet.

"Think about it," Archy says, and he kisses Bob.

If this wasn't Archy, secret queen of London's underworld, Bob would have stopped it right there. But Archy has a reputation, beyond the one about killing people.

And maybe Bob is sometimes that kind of fag.

*

One-Two is feeling extremely morose. Stella isn't around (she never is when he needs her), Mumbles isn't around (which lately he never is), and he hasn't been alone with Bob much in the last few months. It's not that he's afraid, exactly. It's just somebody might say something. He might say something.

So it's a great relief to him when Johnny finds him at the Speeler, which it might not otherwise have been. One-Two likes Johnny, though. He thinks he might be the only one who does. He's never quite caught on to what's wrong with Johnny, but that might be because he doesn't take him too seriously. He remembers when Johnny was a kid, after all.

Johnny, still wearing that beard that makes him look slightly ridiculous, slides into a seat next to One-Two. He's wearing a gun so it shows, which One-Two thinks is unprofessional. But scary, also.

"One-Two!" Johnny says, emphatically but quietly. He's not looking for a big audience today, then. Good. That means nobody's nose is getting broken.

"John." One-Two bumps his elbow against Johnny's.

"How's your lady friend these days?" Johnny asks. One-Two is about to ask how Johnny knows Stella when Johnny adds, "Bob, I mean."

"Watch it!" One-Two snaps. "These things do get around, don't they? It was just a favor."

Johnny makes an obscene gesture. "So I hear. Still, time's a-wasting, eh? I could name half a dozen things wrong with Bob, but no relationship is perfect."

People won't stop pushing this on One-Two. He and Bob are finally mostly back to normal. He doesn't want it, and Bob _clearly_ doesn't want it. One-Two doesn't wear leather or lisp, he thinks uncharitably.

"You and Archy seem to do well enough," he says. Master of deflection.

Johnny chuckles indulgently. "If you only knew. Tell him if he wants to really impress, he'll be a bit more heavy-handed."

One-Two chooses not to interpret that remark. "That's our Johnny."

"By the way," Johnny says, "It's very kind of you to let your ex date Mumbles."

"What?" One-Two says.

*

When Bob's buzzer goes, he's halfway certain it's Archy.

It's not.

"Going to invite me up?" Johnny demands.

Bob would sooner die. Still, out of respect for Archy, he does.

Johnny appears to be drunk. He smells like alcohol, anyway. "So!" he says, as soon as he's inside. "Been messing about with Uncle Archy, have you?"

Bob's got no problem telling Johnny, but he isn't sure if Archy does. "Fuck off. I've got a boyfriend."

"Please, I've seen that little peach who follows you around," Johnny says, waving a hand dismissively. "But he's got nothing on Archy. Archy's smart, Archy's _cool_." He pitches his voice high. "Ooh, that Archy, he's well fit, innit," he slurs.

"Aren't you s'posed to've been clean?" Bob asks.

"Alcohol don't count," Johnny says. "You'd think you'd know that. But that's not why I'm here, actually. It was just a point of interest."

Bob crosses his arms and waits.

"One-Two told me you've been on his mind."/p>

Bob's been hearing a lot of that in the past few months, mostly as a joke, as word has inevitably gotten around. "Yeah?"

"Oh, and he's having a massive row with Mumbles at the Speeler."

Bob's out of breath when he makes it to the Speeler. One-Two and Mumbles are, as advertised, having a row, which only happens once in a blue moon.

"I just can't believe you've been seeing her!" One-Two roars.

"I can't believe you have," Mumbles says, and even he's agitated. "You could have said." In fact, One-Two always says, when he's seeing someone. In fact, he usually goes out of his way to make sure everyone knows.

"I was—distracted. This thing with Bob--"

_What thing with Bob?_

Mumbles clears his throat. "Did you not tell us about Stella because you didn't want Bob to know?"

One-Two's face falls. He's an awful liar. "I—well, it's a bit weird, him seeing her husband, and me—you know, it's--"

"You need to talk to him," Mumbles says. "And you know I'd die for you, but you can't handle Stella." 

"One-Two," Bob says loudly, because if they don't notice him soon, One-Two will spiral into embarrassment and Bob will never get anywhere with him.

One-Two spins around. "Shit."

"I've got to talk to you," Bob says. "It's about Archy and Johnny."

And that's how he gets One-Two alone with him in the back room.

"So?" One-Two says. "What about Archy and Johnny?"

"The dance wasn't enough," Bob blurts out. "Look, I've had it. Bertie is getting on my last nerve, Archy's a fucking headcase practically married to an even bigger headcase, I can't do this. I know you're not gay, but it keeps coming up! Everyone keeps saying it to me! One-Two and his thing about Bob! Well, if you've got a thing about me, you'd better say it."

He's shaking all over. He can't believe he's doing this again.

One-Two buries his face in his hands. "Christ, Bob. You drive a hard bargain."

As if either of them is getting anything out of it.

"I don't want a fucking bargain," Bob says.

"Then what do you want?"

"I've said!" He forces himself to lower his voice. "In the car, I said. I want you."

"And then we had a bloody and dance then--"

"And then you panicked!"

They stare at each other in the gloom of the back room.

"Look, what you and Bertie do--"

Bob throws up his hands in exasperation. "Is nothing! I don't want that, One-Two! I don't want sex games! I want a _boyfriend_."

"Oh," One-Two says. "Well. If that's all."

Bob waits.

"That's really not so different from what we do now, is it?" One-Two says, looking at his hands. "Going places together, spending every minute in each other's presence. We do that now."

Bob sighs. "But that's not all it is. I mean, I do like sex. I'm not going to agree to nothing changing at all."

One-Two looks as though he's truly in agony now. "But—the thing is, what if I did—I mean, I'm not going about in a collar and leash. It'd have to be a normal—relationship."

"Is that what you want?" Bob asks, stunned. "You'd fuck me?" He waits to see if One-Two will panic.

Instead, One-Two meets his eyes. Without flinching, even. "I'd fuck you, Bob."

Bob wonders when the revelation set in, and if it was maybe just now, or else years ago.

"Oh," he says.

"So now that's over with," One-Two says, "we need to go and present a united front against Mumbles and his treachery."

To hell with Archy, Bob has everything he needs right here.

*

A week later, everything is back to normal. Or rather, it's settled into an entirely new routine altogether. One-Two still won't hold Bob's hand in public, but Bob's gotten him to put his hand on his leg under the table. Tonight, One-Two's hand on Bob's hip is unbelievably warm. Stella is sitting next to Mumbles, looking bored out of her mind while Mumbles picks at Bob's new second-hand sweatshirt.

"Not a chance of your dressing like an adult, is there?" Mumbles asks, leaning across the table for a pack of cards and almost spilling Bob's beer.

"Fuck right off," Bob returns. "Least I won't be dressed like a middle-aged woman."

One Two looks quite hurt. "Oi, don't think I missed that. It's cruel, Bobby, that's what it is. You'll be sorry when I'm upper-middle class."

And on they go, into the night.


End file.
